


Racing Queen

by gingeringfigs



Series: Born to be Wild [2]
Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 15:15:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4526991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingeringfigs/pseuds/gingeringfigs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiro is going to DESTROY THAT OUTFIT.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Racing Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Well, a certain friend on twitter was very enamored with the idea of race queen hiro and even drew fanart of it. I HOPE YOU ARE HAPPY YOU FILTHY PORNOMANCER

Hiro was regretting his situation so very much right now. Tugging at his skimpy shorts that was riding up his buttcrack  - it was an insult to actual shorts, being little more than mere scraps of fabric that covered his private bits and even then, it was really streeeetching it, not that the fabric was that stretchable, but nevertheless – Hiro cut off his train of thoughts when they started to repeat. Awkwardly shifting from foot to foot in dratted thigh high boots (wow, how could those race queens sashay so easily and effortlessly in them? He was barely standing straight without nearly toppling over head over ass-kettle.), he bit back a deep sigh, tasting the strawberry lip-gloss (even in this, he was forced to wear make-up. Bhari was really thorough when he put his mind to it.)

 

He really shouldn’t have taken Bhari up on his bet. So now here he was, standing at the finish line along with the bevy of other race queens (hey, their outfits were actually _less skimpy_ than his! What the hell Bhari!). They were waiting for the motorcyclists to arrive at the finish line. The other race queens raised a collective bemused and impressed eyebrow at him. One of them dressed very sensibly in gogo pants and a short-sleeved top asked, “So. Who are you supporting?”

 

She very tactfully avoided mention of his outfit. Hiro grimaced, “You’ll just have to see when they arrive.”

 

“Right. Then. Um.” The woman was obviously struggling not to stare at his outfit and questions showed in her eyes. Hiro shuffled backwards a bit more into the shadows, his face glowing red with renewed mortification. The background noise came into sharp focus then, and Hiro heard a lot of catcalls from the audience. At first he thought they were directed at the other race queens but soon realised that they were for _him_. His cheeks burned.

 

Thank god that Tadashi wasn’t here to see _him_ dressed like this. He couldn’t imagine how he would react nor did he want to. The woman from before asked him, “Um, don’t you feel cold?”

 

Hiro stared at her with soulless eyes. He deadpanned, “Honestly, no. I’m not feeling anything other than deep, deep regret and an acute desire to commit seppuku with this shitty parasol. Or perhaps commit justified homicide before the night’s over.”

 

The woman wisely left him alone after that.

 

The emcee finally announced, “OOOHHH THERE THEY COOOME!!”

 

On the large screens, Hiro could see the racers drawing close to the finish line. Swivelling on his heel, he faced the road and saw the bright headlights of the motorcycles coming round the curve. He wondered who was in the lead and prayed that it wasn’t that _guy_ because if he didn’t win, he wouldn’t have to be put in the spotlight.

 

Alas, his last hopes were dashed when he saw Black Dragon’s familiar motorbike in the lead. Mournful as the last shreds of his dignity gave up the ghost, Hiro shuffled out of the shadows and opened the parasol to reveal the Black Dragon insignia emblazoned in red on black panels. Black Dragon didn’t slow down. Instead, he sped up even further until he screeched to a halt past the checkered line.

 

Black Dragon ignored the cheering audience as his head turned towards Hiro. For once, Hiro was grateful that he couldn’t see Black Dragon’s face because he really really really did not want to be facing that guy in a skimpy outfit (His nipples were barely covered! He couldn’t bend over without his buttcrack showing!) and did not want to see his face.

 

Black Dragon unexpectedly slumped over his bike and slapped a gloved hand to his head. Despite the voice modulator stripping all recognisable traits from his voice, his appalled surprise came through loud and clear, “What are you _wearing_?!”

 

“Don’t _ask_.” Hiro hissed as he stomped over to his side, plastering a false smile over his face as they faced the audience. “If only you had lost so I wouldn’t have to do this.”

 

“NOW THE TRADITIONAL KISS FROM THE RACE QUEEEEN,” the emcee boomed. The audience cheered.

 

“ _wHAT_.” Hiro screeched mentally as he kept the smile on. He’d thought that he just had to give the trophy to Black Dragon. Not this! He was gonna kill Bhari after the whole debacle was over. Maybe Bryn would help him. Who knows. Black Dragon was emoting more than ever tonight, more than Hiro recalled him doing. He was tense. He seemed to be thoughtful for a while before he asked the emcee, “Does this mean I’ll have to take off my helmet?”

 

“Weellll, yes. Usually. But in your case, we can make an exception, sir!”

 

“I see.”

 

Black Dragon seemed to relax. It took Hiro a moment to realise that he still had to give Black Dragon a kiss. But at least it wasn’t going to be as bad as he thought he would be. Ugh another favour that he’d have to pay him back. Reluctantly pursing his lips, he leaned over and pecked Black Dragon’s visor, leaving a sticky print of his lips on the black glass.

 

The audience cheered, though boos were mixed in, no doubt the spectators expecting a steamier kiss. Despite the ridiculous lipstain on his visor, Black Dragon still looked regal as he saluted the audience. Then without further ado, he whisked Hiro onto his bike and sped off, to much catcalling.

 

Much much much later, when Hiro was finally home and out of that infernal stripper outfit (it was NOT A RACE QUEEN OUTFIT NO MATTER HOW MUCH BHARI CLAIMED IT WAS), he wondered for the umpteenth time where Black Dragon usually went after the events. He had been unusually taciturn as he dumped Hiro off at the changing rooms with Bryn. In contrast to their first meeting where he practically manhandled Hiro, Black Dragon had been quite careful. Positively gentlemanly. He hadn’t even made a teasing comment on his clothes which was more than he could say for most people. Hm. No wonder Bryn was so taken with him.

 

Tadashi finally came up the stairs, freshly showered and muttering inaudibly under his breath. He didn’t seem to notice his presence until Hiro padded over to him and poked him, “Yen for your thoughts?”

 

Tadashi started and looked down at him. His eyes went wide and he shrilly exclaimed, “Cover yourself up!”

 

“Um what,” Hiro looked down at his clothes. He was just wearing old sleeping shorts and a loose over-sized shirt that was a hand-down from Tadashi’s wardrobe. He realised that his clothes were slipping a little, both being too big and the elastic band busted. He tugged them into place, “Oh sheesh. It’s no big deal. It’s just sleeping clothes. I’ve worn much w- uh never mind. You don’t need to know that,” he sheepishly trailed off.

 

Tadashi was pointedly looking at the clock. He seemed rather flustered as he laughed, “Oh haha, you know how cold it gets during winter nights. And look at the time! It’s already way past your bedtime!”

 

“Uh yeah…? I was going to sleep anyway so –“

 

“Fantastic! Good night!” Tadashi threw the screen divider shut and it went dark in his section of their bedroom. Hiro stared at the screen divider before muttering, “Weirdo.”

 

Overnight, photos of Black Dragon’s mysterious race queen briefly circulated BiBoNet before being rapidly stamped out of existence. Since then, the race queen never appeared again and became an urban myth. (Later, Hiro choked on his candy when he realised that the mythical busty race queen the spectators were so enamored with was actually him.)

 

**Fin.**

 


End file.
